


I Lied

by Descarada



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, And there was only one room, Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia is Bad at Communicating, Geraskier, M/M, Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, and there was a bath, moronsexuals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:46:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22581988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Descarada/pseuds/Descarada
Summary: Geralt learns that Jaskier sleeps with men. Oddly enough he gets angry.  Jaskier thinks Geralt is judging him. But maybe the issue is something else entirely. Hmmm I wonder what it could be?...“If you’re going to treat our room like a brothel you should get your own,” barked Geralt. “That way you can entertain all the cock you want for however long you desire.”The mud on Geralt was drying to a crust and he looked absolutely miserable.  Jaskier was at a loss. He tried a different tack.“Geralt you need to bathe.  You smell like rotten entrails.”“If am so revolting then leave,”Geralt plopped back down on the chair and stared menacingly at the floor.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 129
Kudos: 1971
Collections: GERALT AND JASKIER ARE FUCKING GAY





	I Lied

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks Mandi for giving me feedback and helping me get the guts to do this. And thanks for being the person who never gets tired of talking about Joey Batey with me.

Jaskier sat alone in the room humming to himself. The sun’s sinking rays stretched through the open window. He hunkered over a wobbly rustic table shoved into one corner. A small mortar and pestle that he had swiped (borrowed!) from the innkeeper sat in front of him. Next to the mortar lay a roughspun square cloth. On the cloth, small colorful bundles of leaves and stems were lined up in neat rows. Jaskier carefully chose petals, stems, and leaves from a few of the various piles. He dropped them into the mortar together and ground them. As the wildflowers and herbs crushed together, their scent drifted towards his nose. Jaskier inhaled and smiled softly to himself. Yes. That was just right.

It was the only room Geralt had rented for the night. This was how they lodged lately. Together. Geralt said he’d be damned if he was going to pay for two rooms just so Jaskier could tag along, and if the bard didn’t like it he could go home. Jaskier had responded with a perfunctory show of light grumbling.

The truth was, Jaskier loved to stay in the same room as Geralt. He liked reading and tuning his lute while the sounds of the witcher filled the silence around him. Geralt stomping around unpacking. Sharpening his swords. Swearing to himself. And yes, Jaskier also enjoyed the perks of watching Geralt change and bathe. The man was truly built like a brick shit house. He was a wonder. But mostly Jaskier loved just existing in the same space as Geralt. Complaining to each other about minor lords trying to cheat them. Bickering. Sitting in comfortable silence.

Go home? Ha. This was home.

Jaskier was alone in the room because Geralt had not let the bard accompany him on the day’s witchering mission. Geralt claimed it would be a boring and insignificant job that didn’t warrant Jaskier’s company. It was too dull to be added to the songbook. He’d be back in two hours.

The bard had tried to argue but Geralt just grunted and shoved him unceremoniously back into their room at the little inn, blocking the door with a piece of furniture. By the time Jaskier had shaken it loose, Geralt was gone. So Jaskier had entertained himself. He’d eaten lunch, sang for some coin, and even managed a little sexy time with a fetching bar patron.

After he’d eaten and orgasmed, it had already been three hours. Geralt still wasn’t back. Jaskier began to worry about the witcher. What was taking so long? What if Geralt were bleeding out in a dank cave somewhere?

When Jaskier worried about Geralt it was no use expressing it. No one, least of all Geralt, would tolerate him worrying about a deadly mutant witcher who could kill you with a spoon. So the bard dealt with his suppressed anxiety by performing any nurturing task that made him feel like he was taking care of Geralt. It was the only thing that soothed his nerves. So today, he had gone out to pick wildflowers and buy oils for Geralt’s bath. Then he set some water to boil. He knew these small, loving gestures trundled right past platonic. But Geralt didn’t notice anyway, so it was harmless.

Geralt didn’t need to know that Jaskier had literally smelled fifty different flowers before he settled on that particular combination for his bath. Geralt didn’t need to know that as Jaskier crushed the wildflowers, his thoughts strayed to burying his nose in the crook of the witcher’s neck. That he pictured running his hands over Geralt’s muscular shoulders and drifting his clever fingers down that broad back like a waterfall. That he fantasized about inhaling the wildflower scent mixed with the warmth of Geralt’s familiar scarred skin.

Jaskier shook his head and returned his attention to the task at hand. A whisper of guilt tugged at his gut. When a man doesn’t return your feelings, should you be entertaining those kinds of thoughts? Was it disrespectful of their friendship? Jaskier reminded himself that he had hooked up with someone else that day. He had made an effort to pry his feelings away from Geralt. That was the respectful thing to do. And it would work, right? This unrequited...whatever it was would pass. He would just keep fucking other people and it would surely fade.

It’s not like these encounters were difficult to arrange. Jaskier didn’t have game, but that was only because he had never needed any. His tousled hair and big blue eyes generally did the trick. And if not, he just threw in some bright charm and a cheeky smile, and boom. Irresistible. Except to Geralt apparently. Jaskier simply didn’t have the right equipment.

Jaskier got up and checked the water. Boiling. He grabbed some towels, pulled the cauldron off the stove, and poured it into the bath with the cool water. Then he started towards the bottles of oil but gave pause at the sound of horse hooves approaching outside the window. He knew instantly that it was Roach. Jaskier couldn’t explain how Roach’s clomping sounded distinct, but it did. He rushed to the window and looked outside. The sun was setting but he could just make out the figure of Geralt on Roach. He was slumped against the horse’s neck. Jaskier’s chest tightened. He ran out of the room and almost plowed into a few of the other guests as he bolted down the hall and emerged outside. He reached Geralt and Roach just as they arrived at the stable doors.

“Geralt!” Jaskier shouted. He held out his hand to the witcher, who looked like he was about to fall off Roach onto his face. Jaskier tried to hide his surprise when Geralt actually clasped his hand and used it to steady himself. The witcher thumped to the ground. He was covered head to toe in mud, slime, and what looked like entrails. The only part of Geralt that was still visible was his piercing golden eyes, and those looked pained. Geralt let go of Jaskier and began to limp towards the room. Jaskier turned to a stable hand, threw him a coin and handed him Roach’s reins. Then he hurried after Geralt.

“Geralt, are you hurt?”

Geralt just wheezed a bit and kept walking. It sounded like a yes. Jaskier matched his pace.

“I’ve got a bath drawn and some bread and ale set out,” he said.

Geralt looked at him for a moment with an expression Jaskier could not parse.

“Good. I could use some ale,” said Geralt as he labored along.

“I thought you said this hunt was going to be easy,” said Jaskier. He tried not to let his tone sound accusatory but that’s how it came out anyway. That earned him a rumbly non committal hmmm in reply.

Geralt managed to make it into the room. He walked over to the table and grabbed the ale, tossing back his head and finishing the mug in one long gulp. He picked up a hunk of bread and dropped into the closest chair with a splat. He looked exhausted. Jaskier hoped that none of the blood dripping off of the witcher had come from inside his own body.

“Shall I get a doctor?” asked Jaskier. “A mage?”

Geralt shook his head and tore off another large bite of the bread. He leaned his head back as he chewed.

“Fuck.” he uttered, looking at the ceiling.

Jaskier needed to stop fussing over Geralt or the witcher would throw something at his head. So he sat down on another chair and grabbed his lute. He began to strum as Geralt reached for the cheese and started eating that too. Jaskier began composing a song to laud Geralt’s latest adventure. Since Geralt had left him behind, he'd have to invent the song entirely. Maybe if he made it the most insipid, irritating song he’d ever composed, it would annoy Geralt so much he’d never leave him behind again.

Jaskier began to sing.

“Geralt of Rivia/a sensitive soul/he’s dreamy and noble/sweet as a foal.”

Just then, Jaskier noticed that Geralt had stopped eating. Good. He was already annoying him. Success. Jaskier stopped strumming.

“Well, if you’d let me go, I would write a better, far more accurate song,” he said. “And I could be there to help you. You wouldn’t be getting your ass kicked or...” Jaskier waved in his general direction “whatever happened here.”

But Geralt wasn’t looking at him. He hadn’t even been listening to the song. He was doing that thing. That witcher thing. He was sniffing the air.

“What?” asked Jaskier. “Why are you doing that?”

But Geralt didn’t answer. He seemed lost in thought. The witcher got up slowly and walked stiffly over to the bed with his back to Jaskier. He sniffed some more and then stilled.

“Dear god, what are you sniffing?” asked Jaskier.

“You had someone in here,” said Geralt.

The bard rolled his eyes. “Has anyone ever told you how incredibly creepy that smelling thing is? It may be useful for tracking beasties but don't use it to pry into my personal business. It's just rude. And an abuse of your witchery powers.”

Jaskier went back to strumming but was interrupted by Geralt.

“A man,” said Geralt. His back was still to Jaskier.

“What?” asked Jaskier.

There was a beat of silence.

“A man,” repeated Geralt. “You brought a man into our room.”

“Yeeeees,” said Jaskier. The fetching bar patron had most certainly been a man. But what did Geralt care?

Geralt turned. The look in his eyes startled Jaskier.

“I didn’t know you bedded men,” Geralt bit out.

“I didn’t think it was relevant,” said Jaskier.

“It is,” said Geralt. “It fucking is.”

“What is your problem, Geralt?” asked Jaskier. “When did you become so petty and judgmental.”

“Right now,” said Geralt.

“Oh very mature,” said Jaskier.

“If you’re going to treat our room like a brothel you should get your own,” barked Geralt. “That way you can entertain all the cock you want for however long you desire.”

The mud on Geralt was drying to a crust and he looked absolutely miserable. Jaskier was at a loss. He tried a different tack.

“Geralt you need to bathe. You smell like rotten entrails.”

“If am so revolting then leave.”

Geralt plopped back down on the chair and stared menacingly at the floor.

"You know what?” said Jaskier. “I will leave. Because I spent hours today preparing herbs and oils for your bath. I made sure your water stayed hot while you were gone. And I made sure you had ale and bread waiting for you. And this is the gratitude you show me.” He knew he sounded like a put upon wife, but there was no helping it now.

“I don’t ask you to take care of me,” said Geralt. “It’s absurd. I don’t need it. No has ever clucked around me like a mother hen before and I’ve done just fine.”

“Oh excuuuuse me for caring about your wellbeing, Geralt. Excuse me for being worried about you all day you big buffoon,” said Jaskier.

“Yes I can smell how worried you were,” said Geralt. He threw the rest of the bread crust on the floor with a snort.

Jaskier shot him an incredulous look.

“Go then,” snapped Geralt.

There was nothing left for Jaskier to do but grab his jacket and storm out blinking back the threat of tears.

\---

Jaskier made his way to the tavern, stormy expression clouding his features. He slid into a booth. He thought furiously of all of the extremely salient points he would have made to Geralt if only he’d have thought of them in time. As he replayed the argument in his head, the man he had given a hasty hand job to earlier that day slid into the opposite booth. What was his name again? Oh yes. Adam.

“I’m sorry darling, I’m a bit distracted right now. I just want to drink in peace,” said Jaskier apologetically. No sense in taking it out on this guy. It wasn’t his fault Geralt was an asshole. This was bad. This was so bad. If Geralt reacted this poorly to him bedding men, he would surely kill him if he knew how badly he wanted to bed Geralt. When Adam began talking again Jaskier jumped a little. He’d already forgotten the man was there.

“Yes, I imagine so. I was walking down the hall and heard you and your witcher boyfriend fighting. I thought I’d come over to see if I needed to flee town. Did he find out about what we did? Because he could squash me like a bug and I need a head start.”

“How I wish that were the case,” said Jaskier. Then he hastily clarified. “I don’t wish that he would uh squash you like a bug of course. I wish...Ugh.” Jaskier groaned and shook his head. “Nevermind. Nothing. He isn’t my boyfriend. He’s my asshole best friend. And he apparently has a problem with men who bed other men. Which came as a shock because frankly he doesn’t normally give a shit what humans do.” Jaskier buried his face in his hands. “What if he doesn’t want me around anymore. Fuck. I don’t know what I’m going to do. Fuck.” Jaskier fought down a rising panic.

Adam stared at him for a moment like he was a puzzle. Then he asked.

“Are you stupid?”

Jaskier’s hands dropped and he looked at Adam.

“Excuse me?”

“He’s jealous,” said Adam.

“That’s absurd, ” said Jaskier.

“The man is jealous,” Adam repeated. “He obviously thought you don’t like men. And now he thinks it’s just HIM you don’t want.”

“Of course I want him,” said Jaskier. “ Who WOULDN’T? Have you seen him?? With your eyeballs?”

“Yes, yes, he’s gorgeous in a creepy ‘he has yellow eyes’ kind of way,” said Adam.

“Golden,” said Jaskier.

“Sorry. Golden eyes,” continued Adam with a roll of his eyes. “But he’s also scary. He’s the butcher of goddamn Blaviken. He literally beheaded and ripped the throats out of like ten men in one go. And he always smells like a horse. I don’t know how you had the guts. But you did. And now you have a hot, homicidal boyfriend. Congrats.”

“No offense,” said Jaskier, “But if that hulking brute were my boyfriend, would I have given you a handjob in his bed? I don’t think so. Anyway, if Geralt fucked men, I would know it.”

Adam tilted his head. “Would you though?”

“I would know,” said Jaskier a little less certain this time.

“Ok,” said Adam. “Fine. I didn’t want to tell you this. But I know for a fact that the witcher beds men. Your boyfriend purchased a masterful blowjob from my friend Filip, who is most assuredly male.”

“Shut up. Geralt only visits woman prostitutes,” said Jaskier.

“Believe what you want,” Adam shrugged. “But if you two ever need a third, let me know. I’d be willing to risk it all as long as you were there to keep me safe.” He winked at Jaskier, slid off of the chair and left.

Jaskier blinked and mulled over what Adam said. He had never suspected for a moment that Geralt slept with men. But what did he really know about what Geralt did in his private time? Geralt didn’t share his feelings. He didn’t make small talk. Maybe there was more to Geralt than he knew. Just then, a beer and a bag of coins were plopped down on his table. A balding rotund man stood in front of him.

“Give these to your boyfriend. Glad to be rid of that nasty kikimore,” said the man.

By the time Jaskier thought to protest, “He’s not my b...” the man had already gone.

Jaskier downed the drink himself. He’d brought Geralt a pint already. And if anyone deserved a drink right now it was him. He grabbed the bag of coins and got up. He pictured walking back through the door, trying to marshall something coherent to say. He could gamble on the gossip and innuendo of a few townsfolk and tell Geralt how he felt. If he was wrong, his heart would be broken and maybe he’d be thrown out on his ass. Or worse. Wait. Geralt wouldn’t hurt him, right? He did punch him in the nuts that one time.

\----

Jaskier came back through the door and Geralt looked up. Jaskier dramatically bowed, holding the coin bag up as if in offering. He shoved the door shut behind him and set the coins down on a shelf. Geralt was sitting in the bath, looking perturbed and utterly mouthwatering. Jaskier noticed the leaves and stems he had crushed with care were floating on the water. For some reason it gave him a shot of courage. Jaskier shrugged off his ornate jacket and walked over to the bath. He rounded behind Geralt, who stared stubbornly ahead. Jaskier lowered himself to a squat next to the tub, leaning close to Geralt’s ear. His heart pounded.

“Geralt of Rivia smelling like wildflowers instead of diced kikimore. I approve.”

Geralt’s cock twitched in response to Jaskier’s lips brushing his ear. He whipped around.

“Don’t tease me, little bard,” he growled, all bass.

“Little!? I’m as tall as y...” Jaskier began to protest.

Geralt stood abruptly, and the rest of Jaskier’s words died on his tongue at the sight of him naked and dripping with water. Jaskier stood up too, because he didn’t know what else to do. Geralt grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back in close. He rumbled in Jaskier’s ear.

“I could split you in half.”

As if Geralt of Rivia standing hard and sopping wet in front of him weren’t enough to make Jaskier explode...well, that turned his cock to stone.

“I. Um. That would be great actu...” said Jaskier.

“Do not toy with me,” said Geralt, interrupting once more.

“I’m not teasing you I’m throwing myself at you you idiot,” said Jaskier.

Geralt let him go. They stood there facing each other. Geralt stark naked. Jaskier fully clothed, shirt askew and eyes wild. Jaskier found the presence of mind to smooth his shirt and manufacture an affronted look. Geralt snorted.

“I’ve made my feeling clear,” Geralt said petulantly. “And you go around falling into the arms of any whorish...”

“Feelings!!!?” Now Jaskier interrupted. “Clear!? What?! I’ve been the one....” the bard sputtered. “Last week I CUDDLED up to you and said I was cold and you got up and walked off!”

“I WAS BUILDING YOU A FIRE, “ said Geralt. “Do you think I do that for every man too delicate to make it through the night in a forest?!”

“I’m not delicate I was flirting! THEN I crawled INTO YOUR TENT and told you the noises outside were making me nervous and YOU GOT UP AND LEFT.” said Jaskier.

“I WAS STANDING WATCH IN THE RAIN! ALL NIGHT! FOR YOU! YOU WEREN’T ACTUALLY FRIGHTENED?!"

“NO!! OBVIOUSLY NOT! AND NOW YOU LOCK ME IN THE ROOM WHEN YOU GO ON HUNTS!”

“I WILL NOT ALLOW A DANGEROUS, SHITFUL MONSTER TO HARM YOU!”

“YOU SAID IT WASN’T GOING TO BE DANGEROUS.”

“I LIED!”

The two men stopped shouting, both breathing rapidly. They were now just inches apart. Jaskier could feel the heat steaming off of Geralt’s bare body. All Jaskier wanted to do was run his hands over every last granite inch of it. He tried to process what Geralt was saying but he couldn’t stop picturing his lips sliding over Geralt’s cock. He was going to short circuit.

Geralt looked at Jaskier. The bard’s hair was messy and his shirt rumpled. His lips looked every bit as luscious and kissable as they looked every single godforsaken fucking day. And his eyes, bright and blue as an arctic river, were looking at him with love and lust and frustration and how was he just understanding this?

“Fuck.” said Geralt.

Geralt reached down and grasped Jaskier’s ass, hoisting him up until the bard’s legs wrapped around his waist. It only took Geralt two steps to reach the table. He held up Jaskier with one arm and reached down with the other to clear the surface with one swipe. The empty bowl and pestle clattered to the ground. He sat Jaskier down and crowded closer, putting a hand on either side of the bard’s face. Geralt paused for a moment, eyes glinting. He ran a thumb over Jaskier’s lips.

Jaskier was, for once in his life, speechless. But his body knew how to react. His body had been memorizing every fantasy replaying in his mind for months. He’d physically yearned for this moment until it hurt. Yearned to touch Geralt. Dreamed of showing him how he felt. Suppressing that stubborn flame had been exhausting. So now Jaskier reached for the lighter fluid. He darted his tongue out and caught Geralt’s thumb, turning his gaze up to the other man, peering at him through his eyelashes. He summoned every ounce of shameless desire to his gaze. He sucked lightly. Geralt’s eyes widened. He pulled Jaskier in for a desperate kiss, tasting him deeply.

Not breaking the kiss, Jaskier took Geralt’s face in his hands. Then he slid his hands back until he had two handfuls of long white hair. He tugged. A growl escaped from Geralt’s throat the likes of which Jaskier had never heard.

“I always wondered how you’d react to that,” said Jaskier, a wicked smile breaking onto his face.

In answer, Geralt ripped Jaskier’s shirt open and pulled it off of his shoulders. He had always wanted to do that. The bard’s particular combination of masculinity and beauty drove Geralt wild.

Then Geralt grabbed Jaskier’s ass again and hitched him up, carrying him to the bed and dropping him down onto the mattress. The bard wasn’t a small man. But the witcher had brute strength.

Jaskier bounced back up a bit as his fingers scrambled to untie his own pants. He felt the strangest sensation of joy and panic. Like he had something that might evaporate at any moment. Geralt could change his mind. Come to his senses. He could wake up from this. But Jaskier got himself unfastened just as Geralt yanked them off of his slim hips and tossed them onto the floor. Geralt then hooked his fingers into Jaskier’s underwear and pulled them off too.

Geralt raked his gaze up and down Jaskier’s lithe, eager form. Then his expression shifted to something more predatory.

“I’ll teach you not to whore around with that gossiping, vapid jackass,” said Geralt. One corner of his mouth threatened a smile. A smile that promised to devour Jaskier where he lay. Then Geralt pried Jaskier’s knees open wider and kneeled between them. Geralt had hesitated enough. He had been inept. He would put an end to that right now.

Geralt leaned down and dragged his tongue up the inside of one of the bard’s thighs. Jaskier huffed out a sigh. Geralt worked his way up, nibbling and kissing. When he reached Jaskier’s cock he ghosted his hot breath over it and bit his hipbone instead. Jaskier gasped involuntarily, squirming.

“That’s going to leave a mark, Geralt.”

Geralt smiled and pointedly eyed Jaskier’s hard cock leaking precum.

“You don’t seem to mind.”

Then without breaking eye contact, he took Jaskier’s entire cock in his mouth. Jaskier sucked in a breath trying not to yell and disturb the other patrons. Then Geralt slid his lips all the way down to the thatch of hair at its base. Geralt took his time bringing Jaskier to the utter brink with his tongue and his callused but warm and surprisingly nimble hands. Then Geralt pulled off Jaskier's cock with a filthy pop. He reached over to the side table and found the oils Jaskier had prepared for his bath. The witcher poured them liberally on his fingers. Then he watched Jaskier’s face intently as he slid his finger into him. The witcher was satisfied to see Jaskier’s jaw drop and his eyes roll back. If this was how Jaskier reacted to his finger, Geralt was very much looking forward to the reaction his cock would elicit. Jaskier wriggled and made small husky moaning sounds at the back of his throat as Geralt continued to work on his body. He ran his free hand through Jaskier’s chest hair, then dipped down again to catch one of his nipples in his mouth.

“Please Geralt, please,” breathed Jaskier.

Geralt straightened up and looked at Jaskier, his mouth settling into a smile.

“Please what, Jaskier?” he asked, almost purring.

“Please please fuck me. I’m ready. Oh god I’m ready.”

“No you aren’t, little lark. Not yet. Your eyes are bigger than your stomach.” said Geralt chuckling.

“I am ready and if you don’t bury that spectacular cock in my ass right now...”

Geralt sunk into Jaskier. He held the bard’s hips tight while his first slow and calculated thrust tore a moan from Jaskier’s chest. Geralt leaned back down until their bodies were pressed tightly together. Jaskier could practically feel Geralt’s cock in his throat.

Geralt rumbled into his ear. “Sing for me sweetness”

Then he pulled almost all the way out of Jaskier then quickly snapped his hips back in.

Jaskier practically shouted, overwhelmed with sensation.

“That’s it, lovely.” purred Geralt as he pulled out and fucked into Jaskier again. As he thrust into him, tears began to leak out of the sides of the Jaskier’s eyes. Geralt was indeed enormous, and the sweetness of the pain was fucking exquisite.

Geralt crushed Jaskier’s lips in another forceful kiss. He ran his hands down Jaskier’s arms until he caught his wrists. He pulled them up above Jaskier’s head, trapping both wrists with one large hand. His other hand dropped to Jaskier’s hip. He held the bard’s hip tightly, pressing finger sized bruises into Jaskier’s fair skin and kissing him as he fucked into Jaskier over and over. The bed jumped and squeaked with each slap. Jaskier’s moans were so high and loud now, he did sound as though he were singing.

“I’ve got you.” murmured Geralt as he let go of Jaskier’s wrists and wrapped one hand around his cock. Geralt tightened his grip, and Jaskier fucked into his fist. It only took a few thrusts for Jaskier to come, spurting sweetly between their stomachs and onto Geralt’s hand. Geralt then grasped both of Jaskier’s shoulders, come smearing as he squeezed them. Geralt pulled Jaskier close while he fucked him. Before long, his rhythm began to stutter. Then quietly....

“Jaskier.”

Geralt thrust in as deeply and came inside of Jaskier. He held himself there for a moment, eyes screwed shut. Then he slowly pulled out, giving Jaskier’s hips one last squeeze. He leaned in for one more light tender kiss. He dropped onto the bed next to the bard.

In moments like this, Jaskier normally looked for clever words to dispel the awkwardness. He would find a joke or a tactful way to hint he would be going home for the night. But he was already home. That was novel. Geralt stretched out, completely at ease. He reached over and pulled Jaskier into his arms and up onto his broad chest. Jaskier wrapped his arms around Geralt and nuzzled into him. In response, Geralt squeezed him tighter and kissed the top of his head.

“Now you need a bath.” Geralt mused.

“I’m not going to be able to walk right for a week,” said Jaskier.

“You’re goddamn right.” answered Geralt.

Jaskier smiled against Geralt’s chest.

“And if you want to be manhandled you come to me from now on.” said Geralt.

“I suppose,” said Jaskier. “If you’re nice to me.”

Geralt swept Jaskier’s hair back absently with his free arm as he looked lazily into the middle distance.

“I mean it. You’re my bard. And my...eh”

He tripped over his words. Jaskier waited.

“Jaskier.” said Geralt. “You’re my Jaskier.”

“Yes sir.” said Jaskier. Geralt lifted his head off of the pillow, looked down at him, and lifted one eyebrow. Then he let his head fall back down as he smirked.

“Hmmm.” (*intrigued)

“Also,” said Jaskier, “While we’re issuing personal edicts, you will not leave me behind every time there’s danger. I’d literally never see you again.”

“Hmmmm.” (*conciliatory)

For a few seconds there was just the sound of crickets outside the window. Jaskier thought he heard Roach whinny in the distance.

“I’ll teach you how to handle a sword,” said Geralt.

“Yes, good. But just to make it clear, if I seem incompetent at wielding it, it may just be a thinly veiled excuse to get your hulking arms wrapped around me for a better demonstration. So don’t stalk off or anything. It’s called flirting.”

Geralt’s chest vibrated a chuckle against Jaskier’s cheek. And after a few seconds, Jaskier heard Geralt’s breathing slow to a soft contented snore.

Geralt’s Jaskier. He could live with that.

\--The End--

**Author's Note:**

> ETA: Since writing this, the first fic I posted, I have written ELEVEN MORE works. (I can't believe it) so, feel free to click my profile and browse around. Other short, funny or soft Geraskier you may like would be Paying Attention, and Roses are Red. There are also longer works like Refuge in Lettenhove (WIP), Posada Remix (WIP) or The Rockrose and the Thistle (complete).
> 
> If you enjoyed, consider  
> [subscribing to me](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Descarada/profile) so you don't miss updates!
> 
> Also, if you'd like to find me on socials:
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> Twitter: [buffysummers10](https://twitter.com/BuffySummers10)
> 
> Tumblr: [fangirleaconmigo](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/fangirleaconmigo)  
> Feel free to send me an ask/dm to talk about the fic.


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